


You must remember this

by vermicious_knid



Category: Nußknacker und Mausekönig | Nutcracker and the Mouse King - E. T. A. Hoffmann
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermicious_knid/pseuds/vermicious_knid





	You must remember this

 

Do you remember the story we spoke of in the cold? Was it even a story?

Where it took place nobody is certain. But we know it happened in winter, Christmas eve. Like the season, we seem to forget about it as the snow thaws into spring. Just as we know that next year, the story will be spoken of once more – but it is never the same.

Here is what we don’t remember:

The ruby eyed king of rats, thick dark fur and spidery limbs who fell from a palace or a tree – bled to death and eaten by a cat or forgotten in the streets. We never feel sorry for him as his limbs twitch and his eyes go black. 

And we don’t remember the prince. His silhouette against the early dawn through frost covered windows, red coat darkened to wine. His eyes are blue as snow in the night, and he will never be real. But despite being made up from a dream, just a wooden toy with bashed wooden teeth – despite all, he has taken solid shape within the dream and now he _is_. We never see how the snow in his eyes burn as for the first time, for several times, he gets to know Clara.

She never remembers, of course. She is always just that young, and she always enter the room with the presents from the north side, white gown and eager steps. But the prince doesn’t care, and his jaw will always break the hardest when her brother holds him, so she will remember to visit him at night. Sometimes now he is sure that he breaks of his own accord.

And we never remember the kiss, or the dance, or how her skirts billow around her cold feet when they dance, as they always dance as she finally _remembers_. The closest they can get before the numbness seizes his limbs, after he has asked her again, as he know he will always ask:

_“Please, be mine.”_

They will be standing together at one moment, then he’ll not be able to use his legs and he has to watch what happens next. The rat approaches across the icy lake and he begs her not to die. We don’t hear her tears, and we don’t see her vanishing in a mist that used to be their castle, and she will always be a little girl. Over time, he knows he is no longer _her_ dream, as he has dreams of his own. The dream where Clara will always remember, and his legs are never too weak to betray him.


End file.
